Hero's Don't Always Win
by Turtlelandian
Summary: what happens when Russia tries to take over the world and America tries to stop him. this won't end pretty  nothing bad, rated just incase


i do not own the characters used in this story.

there is a fair amount of gore in here too so watch out.

this is my first posted story so please don't be to harsh with the reviews

War practice 31/12/1969 17:06:00

the two opposing sides of the war faced each other in this war. The Last War.

The people of our world were split by belief of what was right and wrong.

This was the war to end wars, the war to establish peace. For, if there were no people with the belief that violence was right there would be no war right?

Many people agreed while others did not and there were many little feuds over it. The governments thought little of it until the purpose began to reach their class, then they thought about the proposition; weighing the pros and cons.

After little evaluation, many countries went to war and in the end of those petty wars there were only two left The United States Of America and The Russian Federation.

These two sides whom have hated the other for centuries now have the oppritunity the reduce the other to nothing.

Many Russians left to the American side because of their beliefs same with the Americans, they called them Spies in America and in the Federation they called them предатели or traitors.

The opposing teams leaders stood proudly infront of their armies glaring at each other from across the field. The Americans were the first to attack.

"so stupid and reckless" is what the Russian leader had thought as they neared. His men were panicking when the saw the advancing army upon them.

The large Russian held his ground until the were only a little ways away.

He smirked and barely above a whispered ordered the command, "Attack."

And just like that the army fired round after round, hitting many Americans with the spray of bullets raining down upon them. The general stood there a large smirk adorning his face. Blood was splattered on his face a bit running down his face and complimenting the pale colour.

Pulling out his own gun he began firing at anyone who got past the frontline of his men.

Seeing that the American he so eagerly despised standing atop a rock in the middle standing out like a sore thumb.

Aiming his gun at his body he fired.

In that second many things happened, first the bullet hit his mark sending a certain blond American down to the ground blood rapidly coating the grass around him staining the ground red. And an American soldier had seen the pale man aiming and fired his own bullet which had hit it's mark as well. With a groan the large man had crashed to the ground with a loud thump.

When someone screamed about their leader everyone looked to theirs; both of whom were still on the ground.  
>the Federation's general pulled him self up obviously leaning heavily on one leg as he limped over to where the American lay.<p>

The blond lay on his back, his eye open and clouded over with pain and confusion at his loss.

The pale haired man opened his coat and retrieved a pipe. Raising the weapon above his head he brought it down right over the other man's heart stopping for just a moment before bringing it back to slam it down hard on his chest breaking ribs and shattering bone.

The that one action the blond couldn't take it anymore; he screamed. He screamed his heart out.

The cerulean blue eyes were open wide with pain so sharp many men had to look away.

Blood was pooling around the grass under him, soaking into his uniform. The man tried to speak but all that came out was a soft gurgling sound and more blood.

He knew he was going to die, but that didn't stop him from trying.

The taller male stooped low to his level. the poor fellow at his feet was struggling to breathe now coughs and gasps the only thing keeping him here.

The ashen haired man pulled out a knife seemingly from thin air and twirled it in his hand before pointing it downwards.

"you see Alfred? Hero's don't always win."

And with those last word he plunged the knife down into his heart and twisted it.

The body before him jerked a couple times before laying stil.

The Russian's had won the war and finally, Ivan had his dream.

Everyone is one with me now, da?

But one thought did plague him: where is everyone?

But, there's no body left.


End file.
